homecoming
by Jupiter Queen
Summary: "Their lack of words created a silence made of fragile glass. It wasn't the kind made for friends and lovers to share."


_**Warning**: Profanity, mentions of sex, and angst._

_**A/N**: I think this is one of my first angsty Jonesy/Nikki fics. I mean, "You're (Not) the One" had some angsty moments between them, but this is worse (in terms of angst, not quality). I might make a sequel to this, but only if I feel like it._

_An entire Jhené Aiko album and all of BANKS's ballads were used in the making of this, but no one was harmed except for the characters._

* * *

><p>Summertime was homecoming, and Nikki was its queen.<p>

Banting University was nothing but her blood and sweat and college fund, but returning to Toronto was her prize, her _crown_. The distance between Kingston and Toronto was only three hours, but that was (almost) enough to sever her from the people she loved the most. Coming home meant rebuilding the ties with her friends.

She visited Wyatt first, wanting to know how college life had been treating him. She sat in his basement-turned-studio, doing nothing but sipping coffee with him and exchanging new memories. According to him, he had been recording new music with Marlowe, his girlfriend and bassist. She almost forgot they had reunited somewhere between senior year of high school and freshman year at Toronto University.

During her senior year, all Nikki wanted to do was reorganize her life. Moving to Nunavut had made life hectic, made it difficult, made it a circus. She had to perfect a juggling act—tossing around a new school in a new region, four friends, two AP classes, and one boyfriend.

She talked to Jude for more than an hour at his favorite skateboard park. Oh, how easy it was to lose track of time with someone who had no firm grip on it. She asked how college was for him. ("Pretty fine. I'm just tryna get by.") She asked about his recent skateboard competitions. ("I won first place in one the other day. Got $1,000 out of it. It was _wicked_." She'd grinned hard; he'd been working so hard at skateboarding for years and it was finally paying off.) She asked how his blossoming relationship with Caitlin was going. ("Things are going really awesome, Nikki. Caitlin's such a special Betty, y'know? I'm always thinking about her… We're trying to move in together soon, and I can't wait anymore…")

Jude and Caitlin, they seemed like a pair that wouldn't have many problems at all. In fact, their only major argument thus far was over the name of their new pet bunny. He wanted to name it Little Dude, and Caitlin no doubt objected. She wanted something "prettier." _Go figure_, Nikki thought.

After her talk with Jude, she chatted with Caitlin in her (parent's) mansion. Nikki found herself both surprised and proud to witness Caitlin's growth as a person. She had become more determined to set trends rather than follow them, working on some new designs when Nikki had rung her doorbell. Her future in the fashion industry and her friends and Jude (and the occasional party) were the only things occupying mental space at the moment. Those were her main concerns.

Nikki's main concern was not dying of exhaustion or stress before senior year (even if she'd just finished her sophomore year) and getting her political science degree.

Next on her list of visits was Jen. The Masterson-Garcia household was the same as the one in Nikki's memories, with the spotlessness of _all__ matter_ in the home (due to Jen's obsessive cleaning habits; if it was an object, then it would therefore be a _clean_ object), the smell of burnt popcorn or burnt _something_ (because no one in the house except for Mrs. Masterson-Garcia was a good cook), and the spark of energy in the air.

Robbie and Diego were as rambunctious as ever, just older. Baby Emma was three years old and lively, forming sentences and clapping whenever sports were on the television.

Actually, the home only had less spark because Courtney was gone. According to Jen, she now shared an apartment with her best friends from college.

Besides the mischievous Garcia boys and curious Emma, one person Nikki could always rely on was Jen, being the same as her sixteen-year-old self, the same every time Nikki came home.

Jen gave her a big hug, holding onto Nikki like she'd move to Nunavut again. They held each other for minutes before sitting on Jen's spotless and perfectly made-up bed.

She ran a hand through her purple hair, which barely swept onto her shoulders. "God, Jen, how are you?"

"I've been good. I'm so glad you're home for the summer."

"Same. I've missed this place so much."

Jen smiled. "For someone who likes to travel, you sure get homesick."

Nikki pushed her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah—whatever."

"So how's life at Banting?"

She raised her pierced eyebrow. "Before finals or after finals?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Before was _hell_. I thought my brain would explode before I finished them." She fell back onto the bed. "But post-finals was nothing but bliss. I got all my sleep and gave _no_ fucks."

"Same here, minus that last part." Grinning, she added, "Two years down, two more to go."

"Trust me, I'm keeping track of the _days_ left. So how's life as the assistant manager at the Penalty Box?"

Jen's eyes widened. "How'd you know about that?"

"Jude told me," Nikki said with her signature snort.

"Ugh, he can't keep a secret to save his life. _I_ wanted to be the one to tell you." She crossed her arms in a huff.

"That doesn't matter, Jen. What matters is that you got the promotion you've been working for, something you should be massively proud of because you deserve it."

"Thanks, Nikki." Jen reclined onto the bed, resting beside her.

"I missed this a lot."

"Same."

A long, comforting silence followed. She and Jen understood each other during these moments because they were beyond the point of friendship where every moment had to be filled with words. They could be silent or they could be as talkative as ever, but they were be glad to be in each other's company regardless.

"You know who also missed you?"

She sighed. She knew what Jen would say, yet she foolishly hoped Jen wouldn't let the words slip out her mouth.

"Jonesy. He's been waiting on you for _weeks_. Need I remind you that he has the attention span of a goldfish."

"That long, huh? It seems like everyone's been waiting on me."

"That's true, but you _know_ you should talk to him."

"Yes, mother," she said, her voice full of annoyance.

She laughed. "Hey, I'm _just saying_."

Nikki laughed as she planted her feet on the ground. "Never change, Jen."

"I won't if you won't."

She left Jen's bedroom with a smirk on her face. It quickly melted once she faced Jonesy's bedroom door. A huff of air escaped her lungs and her hand lingered over the doorknob. She wasn't ready to face what lived behind this door, but she couldn't leave without knowing she confronted it.

She gripped the doorknob, twisting it until the door opened.

There he was—her homecoming king, sitting upright on his bed.

His head turned and his eyes quickly met hers. He sat there, studying her, making sure she was real. Briefly he smiled and his eyes shone brightly. "Nik, you're here. You're _home_."

And briefly she did the same. "Yeah, I am."

"You look great."

She glimpsed at her purple T-shirt—ripped along the sleeves—and grey cargos, wondering what was so special about them. But she remembered that this was Jonesy, and he seemed to love everything on her body.

"Thanks," she said.

Their lack of words created a silence made of fragile glass. It wasn't the kind made for friends and lovers to share.

"You haven't called in ages," he said.

She averted her eyes to his atypically clean carpet. "I know, and I'm sorry. I've been busy."

"Too busy for all of us or just me?" His voice, eerily still, slit her heart.

She neared him, offering a hand. "Jonesy—"

He rejected it as his voice grew defensive. "You've talked to everyone but me while you were gone."

"_Jonesy_—"

"And before you say anything, I _did_ call you. Not in a _fifty-times-a-day_ way, but in a _hey-__babe-__I-mi__ss-you_ way." He crossed his arms.

While standing in front of him, she bit her lip, so hesitant to speak the truth. She still refused to look him in the eye. "Okay, so I've been ignoring your calls, but I… I…"

Exhaling, she knew he wouldn't ask _why_. He knew why. They _both_ knew why.

"You're not stupid; I'm not stupid—"

"—_Well_—"

"—We've been ignoring the obvious, Nik. We're not the same anymore. We haven't been the same since you moved to Nunavut and it's killing me. You've been acting like there's nothing wrong with us."

"Maybe I didn't _want_ to believe there was something wrong, Jonesy. And news flash: It's killing me, too. Long-distance killed _us_."

"But you _chose_ that long-distance."

She pressed a sharp finger against her chest. "I didn't know choosing my father's happiness over ours would become such a big issue!"

He pounced on his feet, towering over her. "Well, it is, okay? Everyone says _you're_ the one wearing the pants in this relationship, _you're_ the one calling the shots, yet you thought this thing, this rut we're in, would go away on its own. Even I can see that it won't."

She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, her eyes stinging. "Oh, so we're in a _rut_? _That's_ what we're calling this now?"

"_Someone__'s _gotta call it like it is, Nikki, and it's gotta be me."

"Well, whatever this is, I hate it." She wanted to press her fingers against her temples to ease the pressure and rip the crown out her hair because she didn't want it anymore. The homecoming court could keep their precious offerings once more.

"So do I." He took a few deep breaths. "Remember how we talked about where we'd be in a few years? We haven't done that in a while. We haven't talked about us in a while. We haven't _been_ us, and you're not helping me solve that." Evidently, he didn't want his crown either, because it pierced her heart when he said, "You don't make me feel needed anymore."

But she choked back an apology because she was always too proud. She couldn't help it—her pride was her scepter, there for her to point at those who were just as wrong as she.

"And you won't admit it because you're too proud."

And he knew her all too well.

"And you won't admit that you need _me_ because you're such a goddamn jackass, Jonesy!"

And her temper was still an issue.

"If I'm such a jackass, then why'd you stay with me? Why are you still here?"

"Because I love you, Jonesy!" Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to fall with every passing moment. Her voice trembled, losing its bite. "I still hold on because I don't want to lose you." Purple teardrops rolled down her cheeks. "I need you, okay? Happy?"

He couldn't help but stare. He hadn't seen her cry since the night of their school's winter formal, the night they reunited—but that was more than three years ago, and three years altered many things.

"Yes." He reneged on his words; he shouldn't have been happy at her tears (because he wasn't). "No."

"Me neither." She wiped her cheeks, not ready to meet his gaze again.

When she opened his bedroom door, she half-expected that she would open Pandora's box. Because she knew this tie broken in her absence would be hard to mend.

His voice softened. "So where do we go from here? Do we just pretend this didn't happen? Just forget about it and have hot makeup sex like we always do?" The homecoming king always left bittersweet feelings in the air.

"It's not that simple, Jonesy. This isn't one of those small fights we have, something we can solve with apologies and rough sex."

He made a disappointed sound. "I figured as much."

She looked into his eyes. "All I know is that I don't want us to be over. We've come so far, Jonesy; we can't lose this now."

He nodded. "And I don't want us to lose what we have, babe. I don't want us to ignore each other anymore." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

She resting her head against his chest, steadying her breath. "It might take a while, you know, to fix us."

"I know, Nik. I know." He abruptly pulled away from her, walking towards his nightstand and leaving her curious. When he stood before her again, his hands were behind his back. "Nikki, I really want to make us work again."

"I do too, Jonesy."

"So, I've been saving my money for a while—which kinda means I've been keeping the same job, just so you know—and I was hoping that maybe we could reconnect somewhere else for a week. I wanted to give you these at some point, but then we started fighting and shit just escalated, you know? But that's not the point." He held two tickets before her. "Babe, I want you to go to Spain with me."

Tears welled in her eyes again, but for better reasons (even though she hated crying and never wanted to do it again). "Oh, Jonesy…"

"I need you, Nikki." His cheeks flushed, and he was sixteen once more. "You're the only girl I've _ever_ needed." He cracked a smile. "Plus, going to Spain by myself would kinda defeat the point—"

She jumped onto him and he caught her. Throwing her arms over his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist, she ambushed him with a kiss. He let the tickets fall to the carpet, instead sliding his hands up her shirt and stroking her back.

This kiss was their sincerest one in eons, burning with longing and heartache. She parted her lips as his tongue pressed against them, willing to let him in. Each time their lips crashed into each other, one laceration in her heart healed. She knew a kiss wouldn't resolve everything—it never did—but it was a start.

Her crown, along with his, had been thrown to the ground, and her scepter had split in two. Homecoming was over. The magic of her arrival was long gone. Lost.

But his lips still tasted like home.


End file.
